The Puppet ( Part 1)

 

"Mister Merriman, why did you call Denise, The Puppet?"

Paul Merriman's face showed no emotion. His dark green eyes slowly looked up at his questioner. He flicked his head so that his shoulder length greasy ginger hair fell away from his face.

"It was just a nickname. We all called her that."

Detective Inspector Steve Miller heard the contempt in his voice. There was something about this man that made him feel very uneasy. When their eyes met he felt his hands and neck begin to tingle and beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead. He’d questioned hundreds of people in his thirty years in the force, serial killers, child molesters, even torturers, but this guy was different. He had a kind of aura about him and not in a good way. He pulled a small note book from his back pocket, glanced at it quickly then continued.

"But, according to other people we've interviewed, they all say that it was YOU that gave her the nickname. So let me ask you again. Why, The Puppet?"

Once again Merriman flicked the hair away from his face and gave the man in front of him a cold hard stare.

"Like I said before. We ALL called her that."

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Denise Roberts had been found dead earlier that morning. Estimated time of death was around 2 am. There were no clues as to how she died. No visible marks, no drugs found in her system, nothing for forensics to work on. Just a naked body on an unmade dirty bed. It looked like natural causes. She was thirty three. The only lead they had was from Denise’s mobile phone. She’d received a call from her boyfriend at 01.57.

Her boyfriend was thirty six year old Paul Merriman. Denise was unknown to the Police, but Paul had history.

Twenty years ago, 1993, he'd been involved in an "incident".  A neighbour had called and said that the boy in the next garden was destroying something and laughing hysterically. When they arrived they found Paul in his underpants cutting the arms and legs off his sisters Barbie doll collection. Three years later, in 1996, the Police raided a squat in Lewisham. They found Paul involved in a bizarre ritual. He was in the process of dissecting a cat on a kitchen table while a crowd of around twenty where watching. The cat was still alive. It seemed Paul had a following. They called him the Master.

Then in 2002 he was charged with the rape of a seventeen year old girl along with three others. She identified all four of the men involved. Yet, at the trial she changed her mind and said she was mistaken. Paul Merriman walked free.

In 2008 he was the main suspect in the murder of three young girls at a flat in Forest Gate, East London.  All three girls were found naked with pieces of plastic dolls inside their mouths and stomachs. It was thought they had been made to eat them before they were killed. All things pointed to Paul Merriman. But he was away on holiday at the time in Menorca with his new girlfriend Denise Roberts. 

Special Branch had been keeping their eye on Paul Merriman. Especially Steve Miller.

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D.I. Miller sat down opposite Paul and spoke quietly.

"Why did you leave her last night?  Did you fight about something, argue?” What made you split up?”

Merriman looked surprised.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well we checked her phone and she'd sent a text to one of her friends just after midnight. It said “He’s going to leave me. I just know it. I can't live without him. He controls me."

Merriman threw his head back and laughed out loud.

"She really was a puppet!"

Miller was angry. A young girl was dead and all this creep could do was laugh about it.

"You really are a piece of shit! You saying you controlled her like a fucking puppet. Is that what you're saying Steve?"

Merriman stopped laughing and stood up. He looked straight at Miller.

"Control? Now then Inspector that’s a big word. A word I suspect you know very little about. All you know is that you can control your TV or your car with a remote. But what about REAL control. That’s something you’ll never understand. REAL control is a beautiful thing.”

It was the way that Merriman kept saying REAL control that made Steve Miller uncomfortable. His whole body went cold. A few seconds passed before Merriman spoke again. He looked at his watch.

"Okay, time’s up. You can't hold me without charge any longer and let's face it you aint gonna charge me. So, I take it I'm free to go?"

Reluctantly Miller nodded and opened the door. Merriman squeezed past. As he did he turned and whispered. Their two faces were no more than an inch apart.

"A word of advice for you Inspector. Do not take this any further. Keep away from me now. Understand?"

Miller pressed his face up against Merriman’s.

"You threatening me?"

Merriman smiled.

"She was just a puppet and like all puppets when you cut their strings they fall down and die.”

Miller wanted to rip this man’s head off, but just backed away and let him pass. There was nothing he could do, nothing that he could charge him with. He watched as Merriman walked away along the corridor. This wouldn’t be the end, he would watch this guy like a hawk from now on. No way was this creep getting away with anything else from now on.

Merriman suddenly turned and stood still, he glared at Miller.

“You are such a silly little man. Your wife Inspector. Linda isn't it? She's just become my new puppet. "

Merriman lifted up his right hand above his head and made a cutting motion with two fingers.

"Oh dear. I’ve just cut her strings as well."

He turned and walked away laughing out loud. Miller ran back into the room and frantically dialed his wife’s number. There was no answer.